The room she woke up to was familiar to her, yet completely, chillingly unnatural.
It was like a hotel room, one that she'd stop by on a night between assignments, but even more bland, impersonal, with an added touch of lying-through-its-bloody-shark-teeth pleasantness.
Spartanly furnished, with the basic requirements, the only technology available being a T.V., a radio, and a computer of unfamiliar make and model, all with their own placements of that shutter logo. Oh, she knew that logo.
She checked the T.V., but only got nature documentaries of deer. The radio music was quaint, an easy listen, but uninformative. It was clear to her that for now she had to use the computer, which looked slightly advanced, but not to Australia's standard.
If she wanted any information, she'd most likely get it from this.
She sat down at the desk, eyeing it shrewdly.
The issue was, should she access this device, would it mean submitting to this new role she had?
Should she not?
(She sincerely hoped this was one of the Administrator's elaborate 'exercises', but really, the woman wouldn't have gone for something this tasteless.) Miss Pauling sighed, looking down at her clothes. At least whoever had brought her here had let her keep her glasses, along with the original frames. But really, a white dress, and a purple scarf?
"Surely you don't think it'd be this easy, do you? There will be repercussions." she said aloud to the room, before turning on the computer, and listened to the little intro tune, and then her eyes narrowed as the line splayed across the screen.
[Welcome to the Aperture Science Corporate Industrialization Program. We hope that your stay in the Aperture Science Relaxation vault is a restful one. Congratulations on your recent and highly valuable promotion, Miss [REDACTED] Pauling.]
And as she watched, another line typed itself in under that.
[There are always repercussions for the sake of Science. You know I know that more than anyone. We look forward to working with you.]
"What have you done to them?" she asked, but the computer was mute in that regard.
Miss Pauling sighed, as an options menu cropped up, blinking in wait for her request.
Did Bristol have any of these concerns? No, it did not. But it didn't have guns, either. There was nothing better than a nice gun in the hand.
Her boys would have guns, she thought, feeling grimly humorous. And if they did not, they would find some.
Until this woman discovered she bit off more than she could chew, however, Pauling had to do what she could to help them.
Alright, she thought, resolve setting in, let's see what you have for me.
Management for the Companies was going to be a bloody nightmare when she got back. The Administrator would make sure of it.
That woman always did like showing that she cared, in her own ways.
This woman, her new 'employer', was very reminiscent of the other one.
Miss Pauling smiled a bit to herself. Let's see if they both worked on the same strings.
First, find what information she could...
Miss Pauling began typing, the screen casting little squares of light on her glasses, as an artificial morning drifted in through the window.
The Engineer looked over the designs, blueprints replaced by 'Aperture Science Lightprints', blue paper and white dimensions being replaced by thin rubber and displays made of shiny laser. He traced the edge of one with his fleshed hand, looking at the hand he made, and sighed.
He cringed when a shout echoed in the chamber, "You baby sentries try one more time! Any whiners get the zagruzki iz ada!"
Engineer sighed again to himself.
Those 'sentry' things, creepy though they were, did not have the vocal capacities for 'Song of the Volga Boatmen'.
Apparently neither they, nor the Heavy, understood that yet.
Or at least, Heavy didn't understand that.
He got the little sentries to understand it after throwing a bunch of them into an incinerator when they complained.
Engineer hadn't been too happy about that, the poor cute li'l guns, so after that Heavy promised to 'only threaten, but I really joke, da?'.
Eerie, electronic little child voices rose in chorus, perfectly in tune, and sounding way too cheerful for the Engineer's liking.
"Ey, ukhnem!
Ey, ukhnem!
Yeshcho razik, yeshcho da raz!
Razovyom my beryozu,
Razovyom my kudryavu!
Ai-da, da ai-da,
Ai-da, da ai-da,
Razovyom my kudryavu-u-u!"
The giant Russian hummed solemnly in refrain, large fists waving like some violent conductor as he stood on one of those crates with hearts. Engineer let them, focusing on the lightprint, knowing if he needed anything else the Heavy would take a break.
This work, though, he scratched an eyebrow under the goggles, still feeling that itch of excitement...
All the metal he needed, all the structures, the ideas, these wonderful machines, and he got to work on them!
This was something his ancestors wouldn't have even fantasized about!
He was looking at sample lightprints of one of his sentries and a 'turret', and was focusing on the, well, the 'leg' area at the moment.
It was tricky, some of this stuff was a bit more advanced, finer wires, new system capacities, but good night, Irene...
He winced as the Heavy yelled something in Russian to one of those 'turrets' that had slipped into Italian.
To the Engineer's surprise the man could yell in Italian as well.
Right, the Heavy...
He remembered getting introduced to this work...
"These constructs," the woman told him, as he sat on the chair in the projector room, showing pictures of strange sentries, "Are of a more advanced class of machine than you have worked with, Mr. Conagher. However, it's been brought to a general understanding that they lack certain...advantages. We've reviewed some of your designs," Pictures of his own sentries and dispensers in their different stages flickered by, colored in black and white, "And found something of what we're looking for. You have the capability to upgrade your designs, which is a talent that Aperture Science sorely needs."
"Beggin' your pardon, ma'am," he interrupted, as sample blueprints were shown of the 'Aperture sentries', "I like a good project as much as the next Texan, but wouldn't your own employees have—?"
"We've been short on staff lately," she answered, sounding reassuring in a way that rubbed the Engineer wrong, "And I'd do it myself, but I lack...the capacity...to upgrade, personally. We'd appreciate that you work on these constructs for now, and see how you do, before we move on to other projects."
"Other projects?" he repeated, as the door opened. He had yet to see this mystery woman.
"Of course. Science always needs being done. Now, don't think that you'll need to work alone on this. We've procured an assistant for you."
The Engineer blinked as a giant wall of Russian was tossed into the hall, which was made of more panels, and the man cursed the panels as they closed behind him, turning to look at the Engineer, blinking back in recognition.
"It's the best we could do," the woman said, now sounding much more sinister, and the Heavy snarled at the voice, "But he simply wasn't cut out for the practical sections of Science. Wait until I explain to you about portals, Mr. Conagher. Mr. Pavlov here had more mass than the standard allowed, both for portals and for the portal testing equipment. Oh well," she laughed lightly, "At least we found out what happens when a portal is cut off when an object remains inside."
For the first time since the Engineer had known the man, the Heavy paled, before lumbering over to the Engineer.
"Leave be, ved'ma," he snarled, "We work." he glared down at the Engineer.
"We work," he said more quietly, "Or is fate worse than Respawn, da?"
"He will help you with the heavier lifting, a spare set of hands," she supplied, "I'll be sending you a list of what you can do first. Take all the time you need. I really mean that. Take all. The time. You need... Are we at an agreement, gentlemen?"
The Texan nodded, and the robot with the blue eye showed up, waving at them.
"Very good. The Employee Escort will escort you to your workspace."
As they followed, the Russian leaned in to whisper as discreetly as a colossus could, "This woman is not human, Engie, she lives to torture and kill, torture and kill, no honor, no battle, just do and dead. She has the others, somewhere, probably like mine was. Whatever job you do will not be good one. We need to get out."
Engineer sighed, remembering the beautiful schematics, the Russian blinked, "You...will sabotage work, da?"
The man looked up at his comrade, and shrugged, "I'm not sure what that'd do at this point, partner. For now I think we're both stuck like sappers on a sentry. I'm gonna do that work, Heavy," he clenched his jaw, "Hear me? I know this ain't what we signed for. Heck, we hadn't signed for it, but, but you should see it..."
Heavy straightened up, looking with concern now at his friend, wishing the man didn't hide his eyes. Would have been a good warning signal.
"Fine, but think on it. I be assistant." he said submissively.
Engineer nodded, but thought of all the work he could do... All of the, heh, all the Science...
It was damp back here, damp and dark, cramped with catwalks and panel pistons and pipes. The Spy sighed, glad that at least his suit wasn't here to get any filth on, but this kind of work was beneath someone of his expertise. He winced as the device crackled around his neck, cursing.
"Yes, yes, yes, find la petit dame de monstre, without killing." he growled, "I understand."
The shock collar eased on its warning hum, and the Frenchman grunted, rubbing the back of his mask.
This was probably one of his worst, and definitely most unprecedented employers.
He didn't understand the necessity for all this precaution. How hard would it be to catch this 'monster' woman?